


Doors To Opportunities

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Series: Flying High [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Wings, Evil Doors of Evilness, F/M, Fluff, Honestly this is just pure humor and fluff, Humor, I'm surprised too, Oliver Queen Has PTSD, POV Felicity Smoak, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, Wings, doors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-18 21:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14221758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: In life, doors open to provide gateways to thousands of opportunities, to inspire, create and change.In thisFlying Highficlet, a door closes on Oliver.Literally.





	Doors To Opportunities

**Author's Note:**

> I mean... I don't even know at this point. *looks helplessly over at Masque* Do you know? No? Yeah...

_From: Mr Birdman <3_  
_HELP_

Of course. Just as she’s about to get her hands on some delicious Linux-based antiviral coding platforms to improve as well. She didn’t know what else she expected. With a heavy, disappointed sigh, Felicity pushes her keyboard away from her with one finger and gets comfy in her office chair, swiping up her cell phone from the counter.

It’s the middle of the day. Oliver can’t have got himself into _that_ much trouble, right? She knows that Diggle isn’t with him due to fulfilling his bodyguard duties to Thea Queen, but Oliver’s not _that_ injury-prone… is he?

Who is she kidding?

He most definitely is.

_To: Mr Birdman <3_  
_What’s going on? Just about to dig my fingers into the best coding project I’ve been given since I started working here... PLEASE don’t tell me you’ve landed yourself in some sort of dangerous situation :( We said no dangerous situations until next Monday, Oliver! You promised!_

Nothing for a minute or so. Felicity bites her lip, slowly placing her phone back down and sliding her keyboard back towards her, hope flooding her. Maybe Oliver’s managed to figure out how to help himself. Maybe she doesn’t need to rush out of her office… maybe she can enjoy the couple of hours she has with this frankly appalling antiviral software she’s absolutely itching to fix.

_From: Mr Birdman <3_  
_It’s not a dangerous situation… but how soon can you get here?_

Thank god Felicity has her own cubicle where nobody else can see her, because she audibly groans and starts banging her head against her desk.

_To: Mr Birdman <3_  
_What have you got yourself into, mister?_

_From: Mr Birdman <3_  
_It wasn’t my fault._

Which means it undoubtedly was. She can almost envision his grumpy expression as he huffs, wings rising up to his ears defensively.

_To: Mr Birdman <3_  
_Dig and I can’t leave you alone for a second, can we?_

_From: Mr Birdman <3_  
_Honestly NOT MY FAULT._

_To: Mr Birdman <3_  
_What exactly is not your fault?_

_From: Mr Birdman <3_  
_It’s… wing related._

Felicity pauses and frowns for a moment. She reaches across to grab her now lukewarm mug of caffeine and takes a sip of it as she tries to think of wing related incidents that are text-worthy, rather than enough of an emergency to warrant a direct phone call. He can’t have broken one of his wings, or sprained one of them - Oliver was perfectly fine when he arrived back from patrol last night. Perhaps he’s going into molt again? No… considering when his last full-molt was, and his last partial-molt occurring only a couple of weeks ago, that can’t be it, either.

_To: Mr Birdman <3_  
_Care to elaborate?_

_From: Mr Birdman <3_  
_Can you just get here? Please?_

Good that he remembers his manners… not so good he’s reluctant to go into further detail.

_To: Mr Birdman <3_  
_I’m at work. Can’t just rush out if it’s not a serious issue._

_From: Mr Birdman <3_  
_Trust me, it’s a serious enough issue_

_To: Mr Birdman <3_  
_Then why won’t you tell me what it is???_

_From: Mr Birdman <3_  
_… it’s embarrassing, ok._

Embarrassing? What precisely is embarrassing to a bird-hybrid man with no concept of social cues? Checking the time and observing it’s only twenty minutes until her lunch break, she informs Oliver of such and promises that she’ll be there as soon as possible to help him out with… whatever his issue is. He sends her a string of heart emojis back which causes her lips to quirk up into a fond smile. For a fierce, intimidating vigilante… Oliver can be remarkably sweet when he wants to be.

She leaves Queen Consolidated immediately after her lunch break officially begins, hopping into her Mini Cooper and heading towards the Glades. Thankfully, the streets aren’t particularly busy, so she’s able to reach the Foundry in under ten minutes or so. Ensuring her car is fully hidden in the back alley so it can’t be viewed from the road, Felicity approaches the back entrance to the hideout with caution. Oliver didn’t mention that were was anything present that could manifest as a danger to her, but it’s better to be careful, rather than confident.

The Foundry is dark as she clambers down the staircase, wincing as she nearly trips and falls down the metal steps. Rolling her eyes, Felicity makes a mental note to herself to remind Oliver to keep the lights on when he’s hanging around the Foundry during the day. It’s unhealthy for him to be sitting around in pitch blackness all the time, especially when he’s in a room stocked top to bottom with weapons and sharp projectiles. Oliver might have freaky senses of some kind that allow him to see in the dark or something, she has no idea, but what Felicity does know is that darkness is depressing and Oliver has been depressed enough in his life.

“Oliver?” she calls out.

“Thank god,” is his relieved response, an echo from the other side of the Foundry.

“Nope, just me, Felicity Smoak,” she quips in response, amused by her own humor. “Although I’ll take the compliment. I am rather goddess-like.”

Oliver is not so amused. He ignores what she just said and just answers, “Thank you for coming.”

“You were going to keep texting me until I did, so it was in my best interest to get here quickly.”

“Thank you anyway.”

“Close your eyes,” Felicity warns him. She cranks the lever that controls the lights and brightness floods the space. Squeezing her eyes shut and blinking rapidly to fight the burn, Felicity strides towards her workstation, questioning, “Where are you?”

“Umm... over here.”

She wanders in the vague direction from where his voice is coming from, glancing around in confusion as she searches for him. When Felicity finally catches sight of the winged vigilante, she chokes on air and almost collapses to her knees because of how hard she’s suddenly laughing.

Because Oliver is staring at her with a kicked puppy look on his face and his right wing is caught in the closed shower room door.

How he’s got himself into that position is a complete mystery. It looks as if the door slammed shut on several of his very long silver primaries, trapping him there. It also appears as though Oliver knew that yanking his wings away from the door would just rip the feathers out so he just… hasn’t moved at all. Although the vigilante doesn’t look to be in any pain, just mild discomfort, as the door has only closed on a couple of his quills rather than bone, Felicity can’t help but feel sorry for him. Due to the angle at which his right wing has been trapped, there is no way he would be able to open that door and free himself on his own.

“Stop laughing,” he mutters, sounding irritated. He’s aiming his famed vigilante death glare at the floor as he shifts uncomfortably, his right wing twitching while his left beats feebly, slapping the wall. “This isn’t funny.”

Miraculously managing to stop chuckling, Felicity walks over to him, cupping his jaw to force him to meet her eyes. He relaxes as she makes contact with him and just… pouts adorably. “Oh, Oliver…”

“Let me out,” he whines. “ _Please_.”

“How long have you been stuck like this?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Oliver. Answer me. How long?”

“... two hours.”

“Oh, _Oliver_.” He was trapped in the door for an hour and a half before he decided to call her. He wasn’t lying, he really is embarrassed by this.

“Can you please help me?”

“How did this even happen?”

“Does it matter? _Please_ get me out of here,” he says desperately.

“Does it hurt?”

He shoots her a half-hearted glower. “How would _you_ like your fingers trapped in a door?!”

“Ah, good point...”

“S’mostly numb now but I would _very much like to get out of here_.”

Patting his chest, Felicity reassures him, “Calm down… it’s okay, I’ll free you.”

Which turns out to be… easier said than done. Oliver has to maneuver himself so that she can slide behind his left wing and back. He flinches and growls under his breath as the movement tugs on his trapped wing. A yelp erupts from his throat when Felicity wiggles her arm towards the door handle, which in turn forces him to bend his right wing at an even more uncomfortable angle. His shout startles Felicity so much that she loses her grip on the handle and has to grasp Oliver’s hips for balance, her forehead resting in the middle of his shoulder blades, in between his wings. Even though it’s not contact with his bare skin, as Oliver’s wearing a t-shirt (which is very soaked with sweat as he’d obviously been partaking in a workout before this situation) it still triggers both of them to blush. That is, until Oliver’s left wing shudders, giving an unexpected little flap that results in Felicity getting a mouthful of black coverts.

Felicity spits the feathers out, complaining, “Do you mind?”

“Sorry, can’t help it,” Oliver says sheepishly.

“Your feathers aren’t very tasty. In fact… they’re really ashy. Have you been having wood ash dust baths without telling me?”

“... no.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Did you just pull my feathers!?”

“No.”

“And you say _I’m_ the terrible liar.”

She shifts behind him again, stretching her hand out for the handle. She’s just about to grab it again when the vigilante hisses angrily like a spooked cat.

“Ow!”

“What now?” she snaps.

“You’re stepping on my foot.”

“Are you serious!?”

“ _Felicity!_ ”

“What?”

“It _hurts_.”

“Look, I’ve nearly got it, just let - me -”

Catching her fingers on the edge of the handle, Felicity is finally able to tug it down and release the latch. The door swings open backward into the shower room and Oliver exhales in utter relief, stepping away to flex and stretch out his now freed, but very cramped right wing. Felicity collapses against the wall, rubbing her hand over her face. She feels triumphant and also very pleased that she’s no longer squeezed into that claustrophobic space between Oliver’s broad back and the cold wall.

Speaking of whom.

“I hate that door so much,” she hears him snarl quietly to himself.

He’s pacing, flapping his wings every so often as if he’s checking there’s nothing constricting them. She frowns as he keeps trembling and then brushing his hands over his arms, hugging himself. Felicity wonders for a brief second whether it’s one of Oliver’s PTSD ticks. She can’t imagine he liked being trapped like that… and once again a little piece of her shatters at the idea of a tiny child Oliver with too big wings on his back, locked in a cage like a lab rat.

“You okay?” she questions worriedly.

“I’m getting rid of that door. Evil, evil door.”

She wants to walk over and grab his arm to stop his pacing, but knows that he probably wouldn’t be very receptive to touch right now, especially as he seems to be anxious. “Oliver, seriously, are you all right?”

“Much, _much_ better now,” Oliver informs her, glancing over at her with a shaky, but grateful smile. “Thank you for freeing me.”

“No problem. Not what I thought I’d be doing when I tried to plan my lunch break this morning, but… I’ll go with it.”

“I would have been stuck for at least another five hours if you hadn’t come,” he says. The haunted, cold look in his stormy eyes informs her that would _not_ have been good for him. Physically and mentally. “So really… thank you. Now I’ve just got to -” Oliver whips around, trying to look at his wings.

She watches with a raised eyebrow as the vigilante struggles to grasp at his slightly damaged silver primaries to straighten them out, because apparently he doesn’t think to ask his molting companion, feather guardian, and courting partner for aid.

She waits for a good five minutes before figuring he needs a reminder of her presence to realize he doesn’t have to do this alone. Felicity clears her throat pointedly and shoots him a look. Oliver blinks back at her with bemused cobalt eyes, continuing to strain his arm as he brushes his fingers against the feathers.

“Come here, you idiot,” she rolls her eyes, her heart swelling with affection for him.

“Hmm? What?”

“Let me, okay? Come and sit down, I’ll try and tame that mess of feathers.”

He licks his lips as he shuffles over to her, huffing when Felicity yanks out a stool and shoves him down onto it. At least Oliver flares his wings for her without any prompting, spreading them out to full span so the silver tips nearly touch each side of the room. The vigilante barely flinches as she buries her hands in the feathers and begins smoothing down the ruffled ones, raking her fingers through the coverts to make sure they all fall on top of one another correctly. The light reflecting off them creates an iridescent, dark green glow, and Felicity concentrates for a moment on straightening out all the smaller feathers that have shining silver specks on them so they glitter through the sea of darkness.

Cringing suddenly, Oliver groans, “Pins and needles,” and his right wing starts spasming uncontrollably.

“You should have contacted me sooner,” she admonishes him, stepping around him until she’s opposite him and can get a firm grip on his wing, attempting to massage some feeling back into it. Oliver shivers and leans into her touch. She grins as his painful sounds turn into happy, blissed out ones. “You could have avoided all this, you know… which reminds me, you said this wasn’t your fault?”

“Wasn’t,” he murmurs, head tipped to loll onto her shoulder. “Accident.”

“You trapped your wing in the door.”

“By _accident_.”

“How by accident?”

“Didn’t realize the door swung shut that fast. It closed just as I was beginning to fold my wings back in.”

She kneels down to start examining his primaries. “You could have really hurt yourself.”

“I know… did I?”

“Well, you’re lucky,” she observes, handling the silver feathers attentively as she checks them over for any tears. “No broken quill shafts… just a couple of slightly bent barbs, which I’ve fixed.”

“Good, I didn’t want to have to go through another partial molt,” he nods.

“I’m going to order some of those slow closing safety door hinges online, to make sure nothing like _this_ ever happens again.” Standing, she dusts her hands off and glanced down at her phone screen. “My lunch break is almost over, I’ve got to head back to work. _Don’t_ get stuck in any more doors. God, I can’t believe I actually have to tell you that.”

“I won’t.”

“Great. Okay. I’ll be back around seven with Dig and dinner.”

Oliver’s eyes widen. “Please don’t tell Diggle about this.”

“You do realize it’s way too funny for me not to.”

“He’ll laugh at me!”

“I laughed at you.”

“It’s different when you do it,” he huffs.

She flicks him in the wing. “He just enjoys teasing you. Look, I have to go.” She decides in a split second to wrap her arms around him in a hug and go up onto her tiptoes to press a tender kiss to his cheek. Oliver looks surprised but then smiles brilliantly at her, wings perking and fluffing up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” he repeats, sounding a little dazed as she heads for the staircase, ready to depart back to her day job to edit that antiviral code.

“Oh, and Oliver?”

“Yeah?”

“... I’m definitely telling Diggle.”

“No!”

“And Lance.”

“NO!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed xxx
> 
> Tumblr: @thatmasquedgirl  
> Twitter: @masquedgirl
> 
> Tumblr: @alexiablackbriar13  
> Twitter: @lexiblackbriar  
> Curious Cat: lexiblackbriar


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